Saving Ivy
by nuhuh
Summary: Xover with Dresden Files. Dresden finds himself brooding one snowy Chicago night when his mentor walks in with a mission to save a young girl's life and sanity. To save Ivy, Dresden goes looking for someone who can help in Harry Potter's world.
1. Chapter 1

**Saving Ivy**

_~Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden~_

(Set after Death Masks)

If you try hard enough, that is if you don't look away and just concentrate, become a part of the world as just an observer, you can see Creation. At least, that is what old Ebenezer McCoy used to tell me when I couldn't wait something out. He would tell me to stop and look around, staying deadly quiet, to catch magic in the passing moments. It was all very philosophical and pretty and I, using my cynicism honed by a rocky adolescence, threw it out of hand. But sometimes, I would see my mentor doing it himself and there was a glint in his dark eyes that made me question myself – maybe he was right.

Remembering those times with him now, so far in the past, I sat at my desk in my basement apartment looking out the steel enforced door I had propped open. Flurries swirled by, some carried in with the crisp chilly wind of Chicago's winter. It was not yet noon, yet I already felt as if a week had passed since I'd woken up. I just couldn't seem to find the will to move. I needed a vacation badly: constant living from non-existing paycheck to paycheck, supernatural drama, and my own shoddy cooking was getting me down.

Days like today can force a man into reflection. Being a wizard and all that comes with it, I am predisposed to brooding. Occupational prerogative, as it were. I try to indulge as often as I can, and the last year has given me much to think about. Since an age ago, or five years, that I had set up shop, I have saved the world twice, started a war, fought fallen angels, excuse me that is a capital Fallen Angels, and numerous other exploits.

Where once the Doom of Damocles hung over my head, like it had over his head, now a sword from God hangs over my fireplace mantle. Life is equitable in funny ways.

I snorted at my own joke, and then cursed myself, remembering I was trying to stay still and look for magic in the falling snow. Hey, I had nothing better to do than wait for the weekend to end so I chose to do as Ebenezer always said: look around and find powers of creation. It was working about as well as it did when I was back on Ebenezer's farm and focused more on imagining the Midwestern girls in his village instead of magic.

I felt a whiff of something in the chilly wind coming through my door and realized someone of significant magical strength was near my home. My experiences of the last year had made me more paranoid and I quietly propelled myself off my easy chair to grab my blasting rod and .44 where they sat on my desk. I was fully dressed in my winter gear as I was planning on leaving for a walk as soon as I had gotten my wizardly brooding in.

I heard the car engine after I had already felt the aura of its driver. The tires came to a crunching halt on the street across from my door. Creaking sound of metal announced the car door opening and shutting. Then heavy boots plodded slowly but steadily to my own humble abode. Their rhythm was familiar and I arched a brow. Grinning, I jumped back to my chair and turned away from the door, grabbing a fat tome sitting on my desk.

He came to my doorstep where I heard him make a disgusted oath at the weather.

"Ebenezer McCoy," I called, still turned away from the door, using my best mysterious sage voice. I had recognized my mentor's walk as soon as I had heard it. I was also very impressed with myself for being lost in memory of my times under his tutelage, just on the day he was going to visit me unannounced. I love it when magic works its mysterious ways in my favor.

"Ho ho, you're too young to play those games with me, Hoss. Can I come in?" Ebenezer gave his typical short laugh, filling me with warmth. He was one of the few in the whole wide world who cared for me, and I loved the man like a father.

"Please, sir, come in," I said, coming around my desk. By all rights Ebenezer didn't need to ask my permission, but respectful manners were another thing the man didn't compromise on in my education. There is the practical side to it as well. If a wizard enters another's home without being welcomed, she or he leaves a great portion of their power at the threshold. In the times we were living, it would be foolish to put oneself at a disadvantage at any moment, even if it were just going to your former apprentice's basement bachelor pad.

Coming downstairs to me, he grabbed me by the shoulders looking me up and down; he had a lot of ground to cover as I was six foot six inches to his five foot five inches. But what the man lacked in height he made up in muscle and breadth. If you didn't know of the hardworking farmer's body underneath the flannel shirt and jeans he wore you would mistake him for a soft big man – and that mistake could prove to be your last. Ebenezer McCoy, besides having had the unfortunate responsibility of mentoring me, was one of the Senior Council, the most powerful of wizards on Earth. If you are not suitably impressed by the title, let me tell you this: despite being the least powerful of the Senior Council, last year he summoned a satellite from space to destroy a fortress of Red Court Vampires. I will give you a moment to wrap your head around that kind of power – I still haven't.

I met Ebenezer's dark eyes that looked happy to see me. I had no fear of looking him in the eye; he had seen my soul too many years ago for me to be afraid.

"It's good to see you, sir. Let me shut the door and get the fire going." I passed him to leap up the stairs.

"Oh? And why were you sitting here sulking in the cold?" Ebenezer asked, making himself home.

"I wasn't sulking, I was looking for Creation." I threw one hand in the air in a dramatic gesture. Ebenezer laughed deeply, a great belly laugh.

"But lad, you were so hopeless at it. Always fidgeting. But it will come to you, it will." He stared off into space a little, as I went to put logs in my fireplace. The expression on his face worried me; he was weighed down with something. He typically didn't ever get prophetic unless something was wrong.

"Coffee?" I offered, remembering too late I didn't have any.

"Water," Ebenezer asked for instead. That gave me pause, and he saw it. He was not the sort of man to turn down coffee, and wanting water meant he was here to see me on serious business. He saw my realization as clearly as I saw his purpose. We were old friends, though I would always call him sir.

"Sure," I said, somewhat less warmly than I wanted to.

I had had my fill of the kind of things that would have involved Ebenezer in the last few years. He was on a completely different level of playing field than me, and to be honest with myself, I wasn't ready to walk in circles where men like Ebenezer could sling orbiting bodies in outer space at each other; what did a wizard have to do to get a simple murder case or lost car keys? Oh the good old days.

I took longer than was needed in my kitchenette, pouring Ebenezer's drink, but when I went to sit across from him I was ready for my world to be turned upside down.

At least that is what I thought in my overconfidence.

"Hoss," Ebenezer began, settling deep in my two-seater Salvation Army special.

"Sir?"

"I am here to ask you to go on a mission I can't, and you and one other are the only ones who can go in my stead." He laid it on me heavy and fast. I would've asked him to explain, but old habits kicked in, and I dutifully stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

Which he did, "The mission is for the Senior Council. Although only a few even on the Council know about it, it is too secret and dangerous. So secret that I have been told to not let you know why you would be doing what you will be, if you agree."

"No, I won't agree to anything unless I know why," I firmly turned him down.

McCoy gave me a proud smile, throwing me off, before going on, "I know, lad, I know. That's why I already planned on breaking orders." He gave me a roguish grin from under his wispy white beard. "But that does not mean that you can ever let what I tell you slip your tongue. Not in your sleep, your dreams, or allow someone to tear it from you mind. I will tell you everything but you will have to promise me, Harry, promise me you will protect the knowledge at the cost of everything."

Ebenezer never called me 'Harry.' The last time he called me by my name was when I had a bag on my head, had my hands chained, and was kneeling in front of the Senior Council waiting to be beheaded. Ebenezer had saved my life that day. The memory made my throat tighten and a feeling of dread burst from the bottom of my stomach. I could only nod in answer to him. Luckily it was enough.

He took a drink of his water before turning his black serious eyes on me. "You have met The Archive. Do you understand what she is?"

"Ivy? Yeah. She carries around all of human knowledge in her head. Pretty powerful too from what I felt from her. Sweet girl, she likes Mister." I grinned.

"I heard you had named her. You have no idea how many people you pissed off for doing that." Ebenezer chuckled to himself, I arched a brow wondering why something like that could annoy anyone, but before I could ask, he started talking. "The Archive as you met her is incomplete. The knowledge she has is only four hundred and eighteen years old, or so. No one knows this but a handful, and it is kept that way. If someone finds out who isn't supposed to know, they don't stay alive long."

Ignoring McCoy's warning for a moment, I wondered how that was possible.

"But The Archive is the living collection of _all_ human knowledge, not just the last four hundred years or so She's been collecting since she was created."

"Exactly. Ivy, the girl you met, is not the original Archive. That line was disrupted when its holder, fearing the madness that eventually comes to all of their line, threw an almighty magical wrench in the Archive enchantments surrounding her and…disappeared." Ebenezer blew air in a puff in imitation of a stage magician's disappearing act. Which is much more dramatic than what us Wizards do when we disappear.

"Just like that?" I asked.

"For the longest time, yes. We could not find any trace of what she had done, or what had happened. We only knew that she did it herself of her own will. She left behind the knowledge for mankind to create another Archive, and effectively told us to forget ever attempting to find her." McCoy sighed, rubbing his bald temples under which a ring of white hair still circled.

"But that means we've lost everything that Ivy doesn't know." It hit me and I felt my jaw drop as I stared at McCoy in shock. He took another sip of water, and he nodded gravely.

"This is why you can never tell anyone what you know. The Council created the new Archive and hid her away, not letting her be seen by anyone for enough years that those who knew the old one either died, or could be convinced that the new one was the old one's daughter. And so the secret was kept."

"So what now? I mean this is a deep dark secret that could have a lot of people in an uproar, and probably keeping some supernatural nasties in check since they think their weaknesses are known. But what do I have to do with it?"

"Some very select members of the Senior Council have worked for half a millennia in trying to find out what happened to the original Archive. She was different; she had years of mental disciplining. The original line did not go mad or burn out as quickly as the new line does, and we fear that the current Archive is too young and we might lose her before she is old enough to have a fully grown child to pass the responsibility on to. We stand to lose everything, again."

I had begun frowning and feeling very uneasy about the way Ebenezer explained things, it was as if he didn't realize Ivy was human. "What about Ivy? Is someone taking care of her, to make sure it doesn't get too much?"

"Lad, who do you think could even understand what it means to know _everything_. She is in her own care. The Archive is meant to be independent, so after recreating the new one over 400 years ago we bowed out. The Senior Council does what it can to make sure she is happy. But we need the old knowledge, the old line back, at worst to replace the current one, at best to teach her how to live with her burden. We are not inhumane, Hoss. We just have too many to care for." Ebenezer finished taking a deep breath and sinking further into my couch. I felt bad for letting him see what I was thinking, and felt sorry for him too.

As someone on the Senior Council he was responsible for protecting all mortals, and trust me there are many things out to get us.

"We have found her. At least we know where she went hundreds of years ago. We need someone to go and find her descendent and bring her back to us. Of the wizards in the White Council, there are only three who have an affinity for the kind of magicks that will be required. Myself, the Gatekeeper, and you."

"Me? I can't do magic like you or the Gatekeeper."

Ebenezer moved to the edge of the couch and gave me a very determined look. "Lad you are at the beginning of your magical development, you won't even begin to realize what's inside you until you hit your first one hundred years. But for someone like me, I can see many things. You can do this."

His words, like any wizard worth their weight, were cryptic. Joy. "What do you see?" I asked.

Ebenezer gave an annoyed harrumph, and slapped my arm like he would when I was younger and had doine something stupid.

"What's the mission?" he demanded.

"To find the old Archive's descendant and bring her back?" I answered uncertainly, feeling like I was an apprentice again.

"And how do you earn your living most of the time?"

"By solving cases, finding lost things, criminals, representing Sidhe Queens…oh!" I had a moment, so I forgot that tracking was one of my magical talents. So it has been a rough year. Leave me alone.

"You have a mind for investigation, a talent in finding what doesn't want to be found. You are gifted in combat magic, and lastly, you have survived creatures when you were a mere fifteen year old boy that grayed wizards are terrified of." Ebenezer gave me a meaningful look.

He was talking of the Outsider that my old master Justin had sent after me. Somehow I had defeated a creature that was meant to be immune to magic. I still have the legacy of the psychic and physical scars from that battle; I have little memory of it, but my body can tell you the story.

"You're going to make me blush. But I could've figured all that out. What is it that you see that I can't inside me?" I asked, because I was afraid of what was inside me.

There is a part of me that craved for blackness for wielding destruction, and enslaving every son-of-a-bitch that ever wronged me. When it comes down to it, I am really not a nice guy.

"In time, Hoss, in time. Don't force it. Magic is meant to come to you, and it will. But I see enough to know you will go into the true mysteries of creation."

"I understand," I said, surprised at myself for accepting it. Maybe I was maturing, who knew? But I had learned enough not to blindly try and chew off more than I can handle. When it comes to magic and what it means to me, Ebenezer is the only man I trust, and so I did.

"So where did the original Archive go?" I asked, changing the subject.

Ebenezer gave me a toothy smile and, dare I say, there was mischief in his eyes. Shit.

"She went to a parallel reality to ours, an alternate dimension."

"You mean the Nevernever?" I asked, a little disappointed by the lack of pay off to the lead up.

"No. Much further than the Nevernever. Somewhere the Nevernever doesn't share a wall with mortal reality. From what we can tell it is a place where the Nevernever and mortal world are really just one; it is a place beyond our world's Gates."

I simply stared at my mentor. What I was always taught was that beyond Reality's Gates is the Outside, or the Void, which is nothingness. That is all. To find out that there is a reality outside of our own – well its probably like finding out about aliens.

Speaking of which, "So they have flying saucers, and have been sexually abusing abducted mortals from our reality. E.T. was no joke?"

Ebenezer laughed. "No. We expect the reality to be close to ours. Otherwise Elodie Anastasia wouldn't have chosen it to escape to."

"Elodie Anastasia? The last of the original Archive's line?"

"Yes, everything I have read of her says she was very powerful, and the most willful of the Archives."

"I don't understand. Why would she run away to another reality? That wouldn't stop her from being the Archive?" I asked.

"It would. She would know all that she has known till she left, but there would be no new knowledge, the Archive as a magic is tied to our reality. Take her away from her realm, and she would be a normal woman. I don't blame her for wanting that: I would do the same." Ebenezer nodded to himself gravely, and like him I couldn't blame her either. Several thousands years of knowledge, and more added every second. What kind of a life would that be?

I had thought of that a lot since I met Ivy, but my heart broke from pity for her, and I had to stop thinking. She looked fairly normal, and I hoped she had a way of dealing with her "ability."

"So I will find my evil twin in this other reality?" I asked.

"We don't know," Ebenezer shrugged. "Anything is possible. But we think that it would be far enough from our reality so that Elodie wouldn't be recognized for what she was, but similar enough so that she could lead a life that felt familiar to her. I don't think anyone would want to go to a world where chimpanzees talk and humans are animals." He winked at me.

"You knew what I was thinking!" I grinned, finding comfort in Ebenezer's knowledge of my habit of dumbing down the situation until I could deal with it.

We sat quietly for a while, but I did notice Ebenezer look at his watch several times. Maybe there was a deadline. I didn't ask.

"Sir? How likely is it Ivy…that she won't survive?"

"It's a miracle she has survived this long, Hoss. If the Senior Council hadn't tied my hands I would be in the parallel reality now. I will not fail a child, never again." Ebenezer swore the last under his breath.

I felt a shiver at his words, and wondered what regret he had remembered. But seeing the darkness of it on his face I knew I didn't want to be the one mirroring him someday, wondering if turning down Ebenezer like I wanted to had meant Ivy's death.

"I'll do it." I said, not looking at him, trying to find courage.

I felt his powerful earth working hand on my shoulder and looked at him to find a somber but proud face. I didn't think I deserved it.

Something occurred to me. "Sir, the Senior Council hates me. They wouldn't trust me with this."

Ebenezer gave me a wicked smile. "Oh they don't. They agreed because they think you won't live through it. The Merlin has high hopes for that."

"Thanks for telling me that," I said in mock gratitude. Ebenezer thumped my shoulder.

"Good, now you know I think you can do it. So don't doubt yourself. No part-time apprentice of mine will give The Merlin moral satisfaction. Let's go." With those strangely comforting words he made for my door.

"What? Now?" I demanded.

"Hoss, stars are aligned, someone is going through today. It is either you or no one. I'm going to park the truck next to your door, throw in everything you need. You might be gone for years."

"Years!"

"No time. Get going, boy!"

"Sir," I mumbled and ran from bedroom to kitchenette to bookshelves, thinking of what I needed to survive for years.

Ebenezer's old Ford truck had filled up fairly quickly. Before long, he started throwing things back out. He chucked all of my books, with a couple of exceptions, back into my apartment, telling me that the Senior Council will provide any reading material I needed for my flight in the flying saucer. Just my luck, he has a sense of humor. Sometimes I wonder if that is the reason the council saddled him with me.

Bob the skull was in my deep long coat pocket. He had kept quiet after I told him that the Senior Council was raiding my place and I was trying to hide him. Bob's sense of self preservation is even stronger than his perversion, and that is saying something. Just as I was about to leave my apartment to join Ebenezer in his truck I saw Shiro's sword hanging on my fireplace mantle. He had entrusted me with it and I didn't feel right leaving it behind, so I slung that over my shoulder too.

Slamming the truck door twice by habit, knowing it wouldn't lock on the first try, I took a fortifying breath. Ebenezer had me running and I hadn't even a moment to think. But I did once he started driving and I had questions.

"Sir, I have to pay rent on my apartment and office. Someone has to feed my cat and dog. My friends need to know where I am, I can't be gone for years." I began to panic a little, which I hadn't done when I was too busy packing.

The truck fishtailed a little as Ebenezer cut the corners too sharply; in the snow it was a very bad idea. Like I had guessed, there was a dead line.

"The Senior Council will take over your bills. But you should be back as soon as you're gone, you have to be or else you might fail your mission. When you come back to our reality, you have to come back the same day you left. You understand?"

"No, how will I come back to our reality, and exactly this time? Can you slow down?"

"No time, Hoss. I wasn't going to rush your decision, but now we can't waste time anymore. We will give you books, notes, secret scrolls, things you need to know. While in the other reality you will have to learn everything we give you. From here you will have the Gatekeeper sending you to the parallel reality, but from there you will have to be your own Gatekeeper and come back. You will also have to travel time if you're off your mark and come back to _this_ day, do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand. Opening the Gates and swimming against time are forbidden, against the seven laws of magic!"

"While on this mission you are free to break all seven laws. Your objective is to find the original Archive's descendent, follow her, and protect her. Learn the magic we tell you to, and then open a way back, bringing her with you. No matter how many years it takes, or what stands in your way. That is your mission. I trust you, I know you. You are a good man. You will not break the laws unnecessarily. But I warn you, stay away from the black. You are too close to it. The Council won't punish you for using it in the parallel reality, but you might lose yourself if you do. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," I said quietly, as I contemplated him in one moment destroying all my conceptions of Council Law. If it suited them they could just wave it aside, even for me.

A slow smile crept over my face. I could live with it. They might be hypocrites but I was free from their laws. My initial worries laid to rest I began to get excited about the idea. As frightening going to a whole different reality was, the chance to learn something completely new, and have the Senior Council's magical secrets handed to me on a silver platter made me almost salivate. And to think I could spend years there and come back to my apartment as if I'd left only hours ago. Pretty nifty. Almost too convenient. I frowned, curbing my own enthusiasm.

Ebenezer slid and over-sped through Chicago's streets as I shut my eyes to prepare myself mentally. Damn, I was gonna miss Murphy, Mouse, and Mister.

Somewhere along the way I started chuckling to myself; the Senior Council was going to pay my bills. No one had seen that coming.

We came to a screeching halt in front of an old and abandoned middle school building. I had to put my hand on the dashboard to keep from smacking into it. Ebenezer jumped from his side as if he was a teenager and not pushing two hundred-something. Ah! Healthy farm living, I had to try it sometime. But then there was Burger King. Lost battle, I thought to myself, getting out of the truck.

It was a gray building with narrow windows running down evenly on its three floors, many of them broken. Spray paint announced local gangs, musicians, and other slogans. No one had shoveled the walkways and all the snow from the season was piled on the grounds and stairs. I followed in Ebenezer's footsteps up to the main doors. One was slightly ajar and we pushed through it to come into an unlit corridor that looked like it ran the length of the building.

Inside the building seemed to have survived its abandonment better. Besides dusk and some broken into classrooms, it was useable. Ebenezer led into what must've been the teacher's lounge: it had nicer chairs and a stove in the corner. Looking completely out of place, The Gatekeeper, Ancient Mai, LaFortier, and Martha Liberty stood in their black robes and purple stoles.

"You have agreed?" LaFortier asked.

"He has," Ebenezer answered the tall French wizard of the Senior Council.

"I have," I added because LaFortier kept looking at me.

"Good." He nodded and the bright florescent light seemed to make his deep set eyes look that much stranger.

Ancient Mai, by her name supposedly the oldest of wizards, walked to me. She was a short woman of vaguely Asian features, I couldn't tell exactly which country she was from. It probably had to do with how her gray hair didn't match the wrinkle-free face that somehow still managed to look old, and her eyes were just watery and piercing enough to make you feel creeped out.

"Harry Dresden," she greeted me in a creaking voice, betraying her age. "We commit you to a mission of grave importance to humanity. Do you understand that you must succeed and that you will probably die?"

The lady does not mince her words, at least she wasn't going to lie to me about her expectation of me. But I was resolved and told her so, "I know, Ancient Mai, I am prepared for it. Ivy is important to me, I'll do everything I can."

She looked up in my face for a while, not really meeting my eyes, wizards tend not to meet each others eyes. A soul gaze is too intimate an experience. But she still managed to look at me as if she could see deep inside me.

"You will die for the girl," she said, it wasn't a question, or a prediction. To her it was a fact.

"If that is what is meant to happen. Look, are you trying to scare me away?" I lost my temper a little.

"He is ready," Ancient Mai announced without answering my question and went to a dilapidated seat to unfold something that was wrapped in cloth. I didn't get to see because Martha Liberty, the one wizardess on the Senior Council taller than even me, took my attention.

She came to me with LaFortier in tow. In her hand was a midnight colored staff that didn't look like it was the wood's natural color. LaFortier had a black cloak in his hands.

Martha Liberty was a very hard woman: her frame, expression, the way she moved, everything screamed iron will. She looked me up and down with a strict school teacher regard.

"In the past, when someone has perverted our seven laws against us, so that we could not pursue them openly, we have chosen someone to ensure that the warlock found justice. It is a secret, highly trusted, and very dangerous position, Dresden. Based on your actions in the affair of the Sidhe war, we are bestowing this position on you." As she finished her speech she motioned to LaFortier, who came around and draped the large black cloak over me, raising its hood so it fell over my head. I adjusted it so I could see him and Martha Liberty.

The tall dark woman held out the staff in her hands like it was a sword. With a lot of trepidation I took it from her, bowing a little because it seemed appropriate. The sigils on the staff glowed silver at my touch and I felt a connection, not as good as my own staff since I hadn't crafted this one. But it felt as if the staff had a power of its own.

"From this day hence you will be known to us as the Blackstaff. Do not mistake its name for evil. It is given for one who moves in shadows to do righteous work for the council." The Gatekeeper was suddenly beside me, I don't know how he saw the expression on my face that must've told him how I felt like being called "The Blackstaff"

"With the station comes the right to break any of the seven laws. Be careful and break them only when it is absolutely necessary to your mission. There is one other Blackstaff and he is much more powerful than you. If you betray our trust there will be no trial, no defense, he will come for you in broad daylight or quiet of the night and you will be no more. Congratulations, for it is a great honor to be trusted this much." He smiled at me, and even I could tell it was ironical.

"I think you're just desperate, but thank you." I wanted to put down the black staff in my hand, so I wasn't touching it anymore.

LaFortier took off the cloak and hood he had given me, and took the staff from my hand. I looked at him askance.

"Traditions must be observed, a proper ceremony so you understood that it means something to us to make you a Blackstaff. We have followed tradition, so no further need for you to be wearing the cloak of your office.

"If you are ever caught by the wardens and brought to the Senior Council, show them this staff. It signifies your position, and even if you have traveled time so far that none on the council recognize you, they will know your authority by the staff and treat you as their agent. This is extremely important, Dresden. We don't want one of our own to kill you by accident, your mission is too important," LaFortier explained.

I nodded understanding the implications and practical reasons. They were doing everything they could to make sure I made it, as the retrieval of the Archive was much more important than how trustworthy they thought I was. The Gatekeeper wouldn't have mentioned the other Blackstaff if he thought I could be completely fair and just.

"He won't let us down," Ebenezer voiced his opinion, putting his hand on my shoulder, like a father protecting his son. As a grown man it is uncomfortable to have someone do that for you, but knowing that everyone in that room was my senior easily by a hundred years, I understood why Ebenezer might treat me like a child. I accepted it with grace.

Ancient Mai had prepared whatever was in the folded cloth and brought over a goblet of steaming potion.

"What's this?" I asked suspiciously. It smelled foul.

"A potion based in dragon blood. You are too tall, dark, and dangerous looking. You might need to blend with the new people you will meet. You must look innocuous. The potion has transformative power. Made by Listens-to-Winds and myself. When you get close to the woman you're there for, the potion will speak to nature and find the safest appearance for you to be and change you into it," she paused for a moment, as if weighing if she should say what she did next, "Be prepared for it could change you into a woman-"

"A woman?" I demanded. "Not drinking it."

"It isn't permanent." She glared at me repressively. "You can be changed back when you return. But it is a powerful enchantment. You must not frighten her. Drink!" the small woman ordered, thrusting the potion up to me. I looked around for help but they all expected the same for me.

Well if I could risk death, I could risk becoming a woman. I drank the smelly liquid in one go, it tasted like blood and crushed bark. My eyes watered but I kept it down. The potion burned through me like a spicy drink bubbling in my stomach.

I sat down in one of the moth ridden seats that sank under my weight. The potion was making me feel strange. No one found this odd and went about their business. My things were brought in, I could see my staff, blasting rod, Shiro's sword, and my own sword added to the weaponry with the black staff I was given by the council.

They had a large trunk like box in which they were placing things. I saw them put rolls of scrolls, some very old looking tomes, some very new note books and diaries. And a few magical tools that I couldn't guess the purpose of without looking at them more in depth. LaFortier broke off from them and sat across from me. The man had never liked me but seemed to have put that aside for today.

He handed me a small glass ball that fit inside my closed fist. I could sense the magic in the runes marked on it, but waited for him to enlighten me.

"The woman you are looking for is special and the magic surrounding her distinct. If one knows what to look for they can find her fairly easily, as long as she doesn't know she is being tracked. This device will lead you to her and when it has reached her it will pulse three times and then quiet, until you need of it again. Keep it on your person." He wearily leaned back in the red cushioned chair and took a moment's rest.

"Thanks. Tough day for you?" I asked.

"You cannot begin to imagine what it has taken us to get here, Dresden. Whatever our differences in the past, and my lack of faith in you even now, I wish you good luck more sincerely than I have ever. You must succeed no matter the consequences!" There was an intensity that shone from his deep eyes, making me very wary of him; but I also understood the magnitude of what finding the original Archive meant to my world.

LaFortier was one of those who were in favor of my execution, and also in favor of giving me over to the Red Court vampires. If _he_ was willing to help me then I was part of something much bigger than both of us. It should have been obvious to me, but in the rush I lost sight of the big picture.

For me, saving Ivy was enough.

"There is some gold, a little silver, and a few gems in the trunk. We can't hope to know what type of money they use, if they even have the concept of money. But hoping that they are human, and all humans are attracted to glittering objects, you should be able to exchange them for your needs. There is not much by our standards, but it is all we can spare. Now go to the Gatekeeper, he will walk you to the Gates. Farewell, Blackstaff Dresden."

"Goodbye, LaFortier."

I got up to see the Gatekeeper waiting by the door for me, the rest of the Council was looking to me as well. I nodded vaguely in their direction, and cracked my neck and hands as if I was getting ready for a fight. Best I knew, I could have been. "Alright, let's do the time warp again."

I grinned at them but they didn't get the Rocky Horror Picture Show reference. Their loss.

Ebenezer shook his head at me in indulgent exasperation; he knew what I was talking about. With his staff he motioned me to go on. I stopped by him once and he took me in a hug, and without any shame I hugged him back. We said no words to each other. Nothing needed to be said. He was the only man who truly had faith in me, and I wasn't going to let him down.

Following the Gatekeeper outside the teacher's lounge I saw the trunk they were preparing for me sitting in the middle of the hallway. The Gatekeeper shut the door behind him, leaving us alone in the corridor. He was the most mysterious of all the Senior Council and thought to be nearly equal to The Merlin in power. Not a wizard to be trifled by any measure. His hood always covered him; one could only see the end of his short-clipped beard or sometimes if the light was just right his glittering brown eyes.

"Wood from the Nevernever makes your luggage. It is light and sturdy. It will only open for the Senior Council and the Blackstaff. The secrets in your mind and in the trunk must never be revealed, destroy both if you fear they will be stolen," he ordered in his accent rich voice.

"Sure thing, a week's dose of daytime TV and my brain will be mush. Don't worry, Gatekeeper, there is subtle and deep magic in reruns." I bowed respectfully to the man who could crush me with one gesture of his hand. Luckily it amused him enough to make him laugh.

"Then it is time, Blackstaff Dresden."

"Wait. I wanted to ask. This Blackstaff business, it is a good thing, right? You wouldn't be setting me up for anything would you?"

"My young wizardling, you are our officially sanctioned vigilante, working under direct auspices of the Senior Council. Do you think it's a good thing?" The Gatekeeper chucked sardonically.

"I think I'm screwed," I blurted.

"Astute for one so young. You may survive this crucible, after all. Now sit on your trunk."

I did as he told me to, picking up the black staff of my new position and putting it across my knees.

"Now look at the palm of my hand," he ordered as he thrust his hand in my face.

_Okay?_ But I did it anyway. In his rough, browned with age palm there was a shining white rectangle of white. I looked hard and it looked like a door propped open, spilling out blinding light.

"Gatekeeper, there is a door inside your hand."

"Yes, now walk through it."

"Walk through it?" I demanded looking up at him. His other hand came down on my head and forced me to look straight at his palm.

"The Gates are connected to me, Dresden. Reality is in the mind. See yourself walking through with your staff and luggage. There is little time for disbelief. Go!" He said the last with a lot of magical power.

I felt like his voice pushed me forward. My nose touched the shining door in his palm, and suddenly I was through it in a world of light so bright it tore at my eyes.

When the light dimmed and I realized I had shoved my palms in my eyes I relaxed. Slowly taking my hands away from my face, I breathed to calm my racing heart. My skin felt raw and I was sweating so much it felt like I had stepped out of an oven.

I made sure the trunk was still under me, it was. The black staff was across my knees. And all of us together were in the middle of what I had to guess was a soccer field. It was also blissfully night; I didn't think I could've handled the sun for a while.

Something moved in my pocket and peaked out. Startled, I slapped at it, thinking some creepy crawly had made its way on me. It dodged my hand and flew up in my face. It was the glass ball LaFortier had given me. It floated away from me; I suppose it had started its work.

"You want to tell me something, Lassie?" I asked.

The ball bobbed once.

"Jimmy fell in the abandoned well on the south side behind the railway tracks?"

The ball stopped bobbing. There was a moment of intense silence. The ball pierced me with its eyeless stare, and then the little bastard flew off.

"Hey!"

I ran after it. Tripping over my exhausted legs I came to a crashing halt. It helped to remind me I couldn't leave the trunk behind. The glass ball came back and hovered over my face while I lay on the field.

"You did that on purpose." I scowled at the glass ball. It bobbed in the air. "Lucy, you have some splainin' to do." I kept on with the reruns theme. I did promise the Gatekeeper after all. The ball flew off again.

"Damn you, let me get my things!" I shouted after it, and saw its shape almost lost in the darkness, wait for me at the white lined edge of the soccer field.

I trudged back to the trunk, stretching my legs a little, doing a couple of lunges to get rid of the intense weariness that had come over me. I came to the problem of how I was going to carry a trunk nearly as long as I was tall. That is when I noticed the criss-crossed harness attached to the bottom of the trunk.

They expected me to put a wooden trunk on my back like it was a school bag. The Senior Council was odd. I stood the trunk on its narrow end and slipped my arms through the harness, hefting it. I nearly fell, overcompensating for the weight. Wood from the Nevernever must have been very light, I hardly felt anything.

With my special vigilante edition staff and a trunk on my back, I was ready to track the Archive. It was a good thing I was too; LaFortier's ball was getting testy.

Ah! At least inter-reality travel did nothing to dampen my good sense of humor.

"Lead on, Lassie!" I lifted my staff overhead and embarked on the journey. Lassie didn't wait and shot off making me jog after it.

Beyond the field were houses. It looked like I was in a park in the middle of a suburb somewhere. It was not the best place for a staff wielding wizard to be inconspicuous in. My best hope was that the cover of night would keep most residents of wherever I was indoors. Passing a street sign I was relieved to see it was in English. So far so good. It would have been a real problem if it was Klingon.

LaFortier's ball, who liked being called Lassie, kept a steady pace through the suburban streets. I was ready to cast my best veil, but veils not being my specialty I didn't want to take the time to concentrate. I might need my reserves later. Fighting with magic when your body is tired is the same as fighting physically when you're not in top shape; a bad idea.

A small two door rolled around the corner, the middle aged couple in it stared at me unabashedly. Returning the favor I waved at them jovially and kept up my light jog. I saw the woman bring a cell phone to her ear as she craned around in her seat to keep looking at me.

Great, I had run into a concerned citizen. They are so annoying; much like the kids going door to door trying to save your soul. They are so well meaning you can't resist crushing them with a conjured sledgehammer.

I picked up my pace. "Let's go Lassie, Toto is on to us."

It did occur to me that Lassie could be following someone across the world from me. Did it actually have any understanding of distances or was I going to be running for weeks, months, years, before it led me to the Archive's descendant? For the moment it didn't matter, I needed to make myself scarce fast. Hopefully the lady in the car was calling her best friend to gossip about the weirdo she saw and not the police.

After thirty minutes or so of jogging and running I dropped my pace to a fast walk. Somehow Lassie forgave me and closed the distance between us to fly slower than it was before. I looked around more curiously but just found neat houses with neat gardens, it was all very familiar. I was disappointed. It was another reality and they still had two-door garages and tiny sedans that I would have trouble getting into.

I shouldn't have been too disappointed. Ebenezer _did _say that Elodie Anastasia would have picked a reality similar enough to ours for comfort and different enough so that she wasn't the active Archive anymore.

I didn't have a watch but I could tell several hours had passed and night was soon going to give way to day. Sunrise is a magical moment, and I don't mean that in the cliché romantic way; it truly has power. Many spells cast during the night will dissipate once sunlight hits the earth. A lot of monsters won't show their face in daylight either.

It also meant that someone resembling myself would stick out like a sore thumb during the day. I began to understand what Ancient Mai had meant about me, "too tall, too dark, too dangerous looking," she had said. Well, it did get me the ladies, something to be said for that.

The glass ball began to slow down and I matched its speed. We were passing another small park; just a little place with a see-saw and a merry-go-round. I read the sign to find we were on the end of Wisteria Walk. Wherever that was. LaFortier's ball hadn't been too particular about following streets. It had cut through wherever it felt like; leaving me to do most of the work of taking the long way around, or risking dog bites while slinking through people's lawns. So I was glad to see that Lassie had decided to take a sedate and reasonable path that followed Wisteria Walk.

I should have been more aware of my surroundings, but I just couldn't care. I was shaking from exhaustion, my clothes were too warm for the summer weather I had landed into, I had run for hours, and had whatever else toll the inter-reality travel had taken. I dearly wanted to go back to the small park and find a bench to lie down on.

I was just about to turn back when my hung head hit the surprisingly heavy glass ball mid air. It had stopped.  
I looked around to find rows upon rows of duplicate two story houses, many with very nice gardens. Everything was clean, in place, and bright. They just had to have street lights. I saw my long shadow cast away from the light pole I was standing by. I didn't want to stay long, in case someone looked out their window and saw a city boy like me who had no business stalking quaint suburbia at the wee hours of night.

LaFortier's ball, Lassie, had different ideas. It bobbed in the air in front of me and then almost hesitantly floated to the house across from the light pole. The letter box on the side walk proudly said "No. 4 Privet Dr." in cursive. The ball went and dropped itself by the door, trying to get through the sliver of space under it. It couldn't get through.

"Damn, it found her already? Hey, come back, I can't follow you in there," I tried to shout while whispering, which makes it just sound like you're hoarse. "Hey!"

The ball didn't mind me any. Frustrated I slipped my hand in my leather long coat and felt the skull that was in there. I shook it. "Bob, wake up. Now."

"I am up, Harry. You told me it was a White Council raid, and look we're in a new world. Let me out, I want to see," Bob, the air spirit who lived in the skull, begged.

"Exactly what I want. Leave your skull and follow that cursed ball, see who it is going to. Quick, it's slipping through the mail slot!" I forgot to whisper and shouted. Bob's orange light disappeared from the skull in my pocket. I saw a hazy distortion in the air for a second and then it was gone.

The sky was getting lighter and I wanted to be out of sight soon. Putting down my burden, I sat on the trunk, letting my long legs spread out. I felt aches in my tense muscles and stretched them to pass the time.

Just as I was about to summon my will to veil myself I felt a brush of air on my hand that preceded Bob's voice coming from my pocket. I dipped inside and brought him out; the orange light was back in the skull. Bob whistled through his lipless grinning teeth.

"You won't believe what I found, Harry. The woman likes some sick toys. Not that I don't understand. Who would want to sleep with a scare crow like her? There is the fat husband of hers, miracle they spawned the beached whale in-"

"Bob," I interrupted. "Did you find the woman that glass ball went to?"

"Oh! That. Yes. Went to a boy locked in a cupboard. Squeezed itself through a crack in the door and sat on him, pulsing like a beacon three times. It woke the kid up. He's playing with it now. That tracking ball LaFortier gave you glows when he touches it. Nice trick," Bob commented.

"No, Bob. The ball had to go to a woman, or a girl, definitely female. Are you sure it's a boy?"

"I'm an air spirit of knowledge. I know a male human when I see one. It's a boy and he has magic to boot. Don't know why he's staying in a locked cupboard though. Quirky reality they have here, eh?"

"The ball didn't go to anyone before him? It went straight to him and lit up three times?" I demanded.

It made no sense. The Archive passed from mother to daughter. Things had really messed up if it was passed on to a boy.

"Yes, yes. You are a grouch in the morning. Go to bed, get some caffeine, rub one out, do _something_, Harry." Bob groused at me.

He was an amazing source of knowledge but didn't always understand implications of what he knew, and so couldn't understand why my head was spinning.

"Bob I have to see this myself. Go ahead of me and warn me if anyone wakes up."

"Righto, Boss. Be careful with casting any spells, Harry, there is a really powerful ward on the house," Bob warned me.

"How powerful, what does it do?" I asked.

"Don't know what it does, but it is old, we're talking ancient magic here. Just don't be yourself and you'll be okay."

"Gee, thanks."

Energized by finding the Archive's descendent and the mystery it presented in possibly being a boy, I lost my weariness. Using the boost of excitement I summoned my will and with nonsensical words to wrap around it, cast the best veil I could over myself.

Picking up the light trunk I propped it next to the garage and went around the house. There was a side door that led into a sunroom and rest of the house. Following Bob's advice I didn't use magic to unlock the door but picked it the traditional way. Luckily there wasn't an alarm system connected.

I crept inside and immediately felt my power cut to a third. I had crossed the threshold of the house without being invited in. The veil became a lot harder to hold but I had to see the Archive's descendant without letting them see me.

A thought brought me to a halt mid step. If the original Archive was truly here, they would be able to sense me; just like I had sensed Ivy when she first came to visit me. I cursed at myself for rushing in.

But then it occurred to me that I wouldn't have been able to enter Archive's home if she or he were aware of me. So I walked without making a sound through the sun room into the kitchen, passing by the living room, looking for a cupboard. I saw a flash of light and followed it. There, under the stairs leading up to the second level and most likely bedrooms, was a small storage place. There was a grill in it, had a lock on the door, which itself was cracked a little at the bottom. The light flashed again and I saw it through the grill.

My boots thumped on the wooden floor of the hallway leading to the storage space or cupboard like Bob had called it. I stopped to take them off before padding ahead in my socks. I bent my tall frame to look through the grill to find a little boy holding LaFortier's ball which glowed every now and then for him.

In the light from the ball I saw a strange jagged scar on his head and very bright green eyes. Finally I felt it, the presence of magical power. It was subdued; I couldn't get a measure of it to tell how powerful he was. I guessed he wasn't even an apprentice yet and didn't know of his abilities.

Of course most wizards started showing signs only at puberty. I, on the other hand, had been aware of my abilities and trained them from long before that time. In that respect Ivy was like me. Which led me to believe that if the boy locked in the cupboard was aware of the Archive in him, he would have been like Ivy; that is, a ten year old super weapon.

I crept backwards from the grill in deep thought. I had found the descendant, who unlike the Senior Council's expectation was one, a boy, two, not aware he was the archive. Crap.

I picked my boots on the way, while wondering why he was locked in a storage closet. It was time for a little investigation. I stepped into the living room, which was crawling with pictures of a fat boy, a fat man with a big moustache, and an unattractive thin woman. I didn't see the green-eyed boy's pictures anywhere. The house was nice, clean, and well kept. It didn't overtly show any signs of an abusive household.

But then again bad things don't happen only in bad looking places. I knew better.

Bob had warned me to not to do magic, otherwise I would have reached out to find echoes of any powerful emotions. Abuse usually leaves behind a trace. As I walked through the house it became difficult for me to ignore the pit of anger that was slowly growing inside me. I kept reminding myself that I was in a different reality, I didn't know the situation. But it is damned hard when evidence of neglect is looking at you straight in the face.

And not to mention what I was there for. I was supposed to kidnap the imprisoned boy and bring him to a parallel reality from his, where his mind would go into over drive and become a repository for all human knowledge. And somewhere on the way I had to convince him to teach Ivy how to handle being an Archive. Just peachy.

I knew I was being suckered into the Blackstaff schtick. At least I had time. I would need to learn everything the Gatekeeper knew of swimming against time, and travelling realities. That kind of magic was far beyond me, I was looking at a lot of time spent in this new reality.

Suddenly I felt the potion Ancient Mai had given me bubbling in my stomach.  
Hells Bells! It was going to start working while I was inside the Archive's magically warded house. I had to get out.

I ran over the carpeted floors not stopping to put on my boots and was out the sunroom door in seconds. Tired as I was, the risk of being fried by ancient magical wards was enough motivation to not dilly dally.

Bob piped up as soon as I left the house and grabbed the trunk.

"Told you he was a boy. Where's the fire?" his voice came muffled from inside my jacket pocket.

"I'm changing, Bob. Ancient Mai gave me a potion-"

"To turn you into a woman or something not as intimidating as you look. I'm telling you now, your face with breasts will do nothing for me."

"Oh shut up." I snapped, running full tilt. I really, really, really, didn't want to turn into a harmless looking woman. I'm pretty old fashioned, but even I know that there are many innocent looking women who can break me over their knees. My Faery Godmother being one of them. Though "innocent" isn't a word I'd use to describe her.

I was getting scatter brained from the exhaustion, using magic in my tired state, and whatever the hell the transformation potion was doing to me.

"You're not looking too good. Face is puffing out, hair is getting longer. I think you're getting shorter too. I can't see breasts yet," Bob gave me his running commentary as I reached the small park I'd walked by earlier.

I shoved the trunk under some bushes and crawled as far as I could under their cover too, and gave into the magic.

"Bob, I'm gonna pass out. Go back to that house and watch that boy, come back at lunch time. Don't let him out of your sight." I let myself fall asleep; I just couldn't hold it back anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

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**Harry, meet Harry**  
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My parched throat was what woke me up. I smelled dust and sweat as consciousness reluctantly returned. The sun was bright in my eyes, and I put my arm over my face to shade myself. It felt bruised, weak, and shaky. I felt like I'd had a friendly tussle with the loup garou.

"Hello," someone said and touched my other arm to get my attention. And oh they did, I jumped like a cat. Wide eyed I looked at the kid I'd seen locked in the storage closet last night. He was crouching by me and looking a little startled by my reaction.

"It's only me." He raised an open hand to signal that he was no threat.

I was still breathing fast, with my heart thudding loudly in my head. I felt like shit, my entire body was screaming at me that something had chewed and then regurgitated me. My body is very imaginative.

"Here." The boy scooted closer holding out a water bottle. My savior!

I reached for it and realized for the first time that my arm was covered in a sleeve about ten times longer and my hand was hidden somewhere inside. It just didn't feel right. I was too thirsty to care and took the bottle, putting it to my mouth and gulping down the sweetest water I had ever tasted. It always tastes better when you're about to die from thirst.

My stomach growled and ached from hunger, and I winced from the unexpected pain. Wordlessly the boy brought out what looked like a sandwich wrapped in a napkin and handed it to me. I wanted to say no, but my stomach would mutiny if I did, and also the whole mission was to make friends with the Archive, right? In some cultures refusing offered food was a great insult. I took the sandwich and hungrily bit into it. It had some tomato and cucumber in it, and was dry as hell, but I ate it anyway.

"Thanks," I said, but the voice that came out was not my familiar manly bass. It was almost a squeaky, shy – oh I hoped I wasn't a girl. I slapped my hand, still covered in all the extra sleeve, on my chest. I breathed easy: no breasts.

Did the potion turn me into a fairy, a pygmy, what? I tried to stand but got tangled in my jeans which were also ten times bigger than they should've been.

"This might be an odd question, but what do I look like?" I asked.

"Like someone beat you up. Was it Dudley's friends?" the boy asked, his face pretty expressionless. I thought most kids were either excited or bratty; his mostly blank face bothered me.

"Maybe, I don't know," I said, wondering exactly what had happened to me, and how the kid got there. "Err, so I don't look like a dwarf or a girl?"

For the first time the kid's expression changed. He looked confused and then smiled as if it was a joke.

"Maybe you got a heat stroke. You look like a boy, and you're wearing grown up clothes. Are you a bum?" he asked curiously.

"No, I'm not a bum," I said angrily, but it came out in the same little kiddy voice. "You look like you're wearing grown up clothes too, are you a bum?" I shot back. Now where did I get that bratty attitude from, was I actually trying to win one on a kid?

"Dudley's clothes. He's bigger than me. I wear his old clothes." The boy shrugged and his face became closed off again.

Stupid Dresden! Way to hurt his feelings. Suddenly the kid whipped around, seeing something behind him.

"Fuck," he swore in a whisper. He turned back to me. "Hide, they're coming back. They won't see you. Get under the bush."

Trusting the child knew better than me about his world, I did as told; creeping achingly back where I had last night. I needed to look into a mirror to see what I had changed into, and why the hell I felt like I'd been in a fight.

I saw the kid jog away from me and feign running into a group of boys who had entered the park from the other end.

"Look its Potter," one of them called out in a taunt. The other boys around him laughed or grinned and began to circle the Archive.

The leader of the gang seemed to be a thin gangly kid with an annoying voice. He looked like a rat that'd been stretched long and put in a human's clothes. Same beady eyes, sharp nose, and that general aura about him that invited an ass kicking. My guess was that this was the local bully gang.

"Hey, where's Dudley?" rat-boy asked the Archive.

"They went to the amusement park. Uncle Vernon said they'd be back at night," the Archive kid answered. I had to stretch my hearing a little. I didn't think the gang was a threat but since the kid had told me to stay I didn't want to make trouble for him by making myself too visible.

"Left you behind did they? S'why you're mopping around here. You're not good enough, Potty. Did you steal something from Dudley? Is that what you're hiding in the bushes there?" Rat-boy stepped around the Archive and looked straight in my direction. He didn't catch my face though; I probably looked like a bundle of clothes from where he stood.

"There's nothing there, Piers. I'm not a thief!" the Archive grabbed rat-boy's shirt and wrenched him back.

Rat-boy tripped and fell but his buddies were already on the Archive. A fat kid swung catching him on the side of the face. The boy's round glasses shot off from his face. He fell and rolled almost as if he was used to reacting to being punched in the face. I liked his reaction time. He was on his feet before rat-boy had even gotten his legs under him. But there were too many of them and another had the Archive in a head lock before he could run.

"I'm going to kill you, Potter. Who're you going to tell? Right, no body. Your mummy and daddy killed themselves didn't they?" Rat-boy stalked to the Archive.

Enough was enough I jumped up to help and promptly fell on my ass, hissing in pain. I was bruised all over; someone had done a number on me. From my not so great vantage point on the ground I saw the Archive kick out, right between a third boy's legs, making him go down with a yowl. Go kid!

I heard the wet smack of skin hitting skin as rat-boy landed a hard one across the Archive's face. Damn it! Why couldn't I move? I thought of using magic, but against children that is usually a bad idea.

"At least my Mum never boffed the gardener," the archive grunted out. He was being held with both his arms locked while rat boy hit him.

"What did you say?" Rat-boy went white.

"I heard you saw them in the kitchen and cried about it. Dudley told everyone!" The Archive went on, getting a vicious punch in his stomach.

"I'll kill you, take it back!" Rat-boy choked the Archive, and the other boys holding him backed away, letting rat-boy have his fun.

The Archive turned his face to spit the blood from his split lip on rat-boy. The boy let him go and the Archive again impressed me by recovering from being choked and running off in a second.

"Get him!" rat-boy yelled. I lost sight of them as they all went after him.

This was bad, I was the one supposed to be protecting the Archive, not the other way round.

"Ballsy little runt, reminds me of you when you get heroic. You look like hell by the way, Harry," Bob's voice interrupted the brief silence in wake of rat-boy's gang.

"Bob!"

"Harry!" Bob mocked my surprise.

"What happened to me? How did the Archive get here? And what the hell are you doing here, I thought I told you to follow him!"

"You have transformed like Ancient Mai wanted you to. You look like you did when Justin brought you in. I forgot you used to be chubby with that silly long hair. Also you're bruised, black and blue, swelling on your face too. Ancient Mai wanted you to look really, really harmless. What's more harmless than a beaten up orphan, and-"

"Stop. Bob!" I tried to interrupt his rambling.

"No need to get short with me, Harry. It could be a lot worse, you could be a girl, the worse you got was a shrunk penis."

"Shrunk pe-?" Despite the aches and bruises I slipped my hand under the very loose belt and cupped myself.

My world shattered.

It was like a close friend had died.

"I'll give you two some time alone," Bob respectfully murmured.

"This isn't happening. It's simply not possible. That's all there is to it. Now, where is the Archive?"

"It will be alright, Harry. First comes denial, then anger, then, well you get the idea."

"Have some decency, Bob. I'm grieving." I sighed, reminding myself it was all for Ivy's sake. "Tell me about the Archive."

I rolled out of my hiding place, slowly getting my body used to moving again. I wanted to stop talking too. My voice was creeping me out.

"His name is Harry Potter. He lives with his aunt and uncle. The aunt let him out in the morning to cook them breakfast, then she sent him to wash, and locked him back in the cupboard. Couple of hours later the aunt and uncle took their hippo son out and locked out Potter with that bottle of water and sandwich you ate. It was his breakfast. Maybe wizards in this world serve the normals. What do you think?"

I groaned. I didn't think much of Bob's theory. I was hoping I had been wrong about the Archive's home situation. At least I had a name now.

"Uh Harry, you just crawled out of your pants."

I looked over my shoulder as I was on all fours in the park; I had left my pants behind, slipped right out of them. First things first, get back in the pants. Painstakingly I tied my belt in a knot so it was short enough to actually keep my jeans on me, and then rolled them up so they fit my short legs.

I couldn't believe I was a fat kid again. Those dark days of being teased were long behind me since my growth spurt. I had to go through it again. Traveling to the past really sucks. I rolled up my sleeves too seeing my chubby arms.

"I have baby fat, that's all. Just baby fat, in a couple of years it will be just memory."

"Your swelling isn't as bad as before. Maybe the Archive thinks you're harmless. Potion might be wearing off," Bob commented.

Come to think of it, I was moving better. Just my luck, to gain Harry Potter's sympathy I had to go through a grinder. I doubted that I would change back to my fully grown self though.

It was hot and humid, under the overlarge leather coat I was practically cooking. I slipped out of it and gradually stood up. This time I didn't fall back down. My boots were obviously too big on me but I still plodded in them to where I had seen the Archive's glasses fly off to.

The pair was scratched up and looked like had broken once given the tape that was holding them together. I looked down Wisteria walk that seemed to be empty of its cars during the day, but couldn't catch sight of Harry Potter or the boys after him. Some coincidence that the Archive was my namesake.

Nice kid too, I thought. Gave me his food and water, and then took a couple of hits for me too. All I had to do now was kidnap him. Bad, bad Karma.

I had to make sure the kid was alright. I slipped his glasses in my jeans' pocket and went to pick up Bob. Covering the trunk with my coat, I was happy to see it was not noticeable under the bushes. I had to take the risk and leave it there, in my state I couldn't pick it up and carry it around.

Veiling myself I plodded up Wisteria walk and turned on Privet Drive. Bob's skull was in my hand, without the long coat I didn't have a place to put him. Very soon I had to find clothes that fit me.

"Bob, go on, see if you can find the Archive."

"He has a name, Harry," Bob said as a parting and left.

So he did. Maybe I wanted to keep calling him Archive. It would be easier later to think of him just as some obscure and lost magical object. I knew myself better though.

Hypocrisy wasn't one of my strong suits. Harry Potter, it was then.

Luckily for me the potion had transformed me to a younger body instead of a completely different body. A lot of early training is learning how to channel magic through yourself; I would have had to start from scratch relearning myself. At least this way I still had my skills and power. Although the height difference was making me really irritated, not to mention how I missed my longer legs, it was taking way too long to travel the same distance I had the night before.

In the daylight the identical houses were more colorful because of their gardens, which were very, very colorful. It looked like each one was trying to outdo the other. But something was still depressing about the place. I didn't see a lot of children. Maybe it was just the heat that was making me feel oppressed.

I felt a cool breeze and then Bob spoke, "He's sitting behind his house. I'm going to rest now. All this running around chasing after children is too much work."

"Thanks, Bob."

I walked to number four privet drive hidden behind a veil; until I had clothes that fit me I would still look strange. I passed the sunroom I had broken into last night and kept going to the back of the house. I saw him sitting on the ground, idly picking at the grass. His lip was swollen just a little, and he had the beginning of a bruise on the side of his face. Brave kid. But stupid too, for helping out a stranger.

I dissipated my veil leaving a smaller one on Bob; explaining to the kid what I was doing with a skull would be difficult.

"I brought your glasses," I said in way of greeting. The kid snapped his eyes to me, and I could tell he had a hard time focusing.

Taking them from me, he put them on and blinked a couple of times.

"How did you find me?" he asked, curiously. In his place I would've been suspicious, but he just seemed interested.

"Just followed you. You got away from that gang?" I know it was obvious, but I was trying to make conversation.

"Yeah. They're not fast. Thanks for getting my glasses. Aunt Petunia would've been upset."

"Hey, you helped me, least I can do." I shrugged. He didn't respond and went back to plucking the grass.

"I haven't seen you at the park before. Did your parents move to Surrey?" he asked, nodding his head at the ground, inviting me to sit down.

I plucked a grass blade like him, sitting down. "No, I'm just passing through. My parents…" I thought to make up a story but couldn't think of anything. "Well I don't really have parents. I'm on my own."

The boy's eyes shot up at that and I missed making contact with them by a hair's breadth. Starting a soul gaze with a boy with the Archive dormant in him would be a very bad idea, especially given my mission.

"What's it like being on your own?" Harry asked but this time he sounded genuinely interested.

"Not bad. It's fun. I get to do anything I want. Of course don't have a home, that can be rough," I answered, remembering the brief time I was totally alone as a kid. It had been frightening until Justin had found me. But there was no reason to scare the kid with reality.

"I live with my Aunt and Uncle, but they're not my parents, so it's like I'm on my own too." He smiled, I think maybe in a show of companionship.

I smiled back thinking how young he was, and had no clue of what it meant to be totally alone. Then a dark thought crossed my mind, I had seen him locked in a closet – maybe he had a better idea than even I did.

__________________________________________________

"You like living with your aunt and uncle?" I asked, trying to find out if I was right about his home life. I didn't really want to find out Bob's theory about wizards being servants in this reality was true.

He shrugged noncommittally in answer. I waited for him to volunteer information. We sat like that for a while in the humid heat, and under the bright sun that made even the grass look glossy. I waited for more, but his shrug was all he was going to say.

I tried a more aggressive approach. "Thanks for the sandwich, you have anymore? I'm starving."

"Uh, I guess. Aunt Petunia locked the door. It's all I had. Sorry. I can get you one when she gets back." He looked uncomfortable.

I felt like an ass for putting him in that position, but also felt worse for eating his breakfast. I smiled and cocked my head behind me where the sunroom was, motioning him to follow as I got up.

"Let me guess, you gave me your breakfast?" I asked as the boy in oversized clothes followed me.

"I wasn't hungry," he said in a bored way, but I caught his slight blush. So he was embarrassed by his situation. Hmm.

In daylight the sunroom wood was bright white, almost like it had been freshly painted. Like everything else in the small neighborhood it was spotless; it gave me the creeps. I reached for my tools but thought better of it. I wanted to earn the Archive's trust; I thought I'd found a way: using magic. It was risky with the wards but who ever said Harry Dresden wasn't a risk taker.

"By the way, I'm Harry." I turned to introduce myself holding my hand out.

The boy looked taken aback but recovered soon. His posture straightened as he threw out his hand to clasp mine in a very firm handshake. I winced from the magic that flowed from him to me; he was like a naked electrical circuit.

"I'm Harry too," he said, taking his hand back and looking at it curiously. "What was that?"

"Would you believe magic?" I grinned, inwardly cataloguing the fact that he was capable of using his abilities now if he wanted to. He might just need some training.

"My Aunt and Uncle don't like that word," he shared flatly. "There's no such thing as magic."

I sensed some hostility, though I granted myself the benefit of the doubt that he was probably thinking of his relatives and not me.

"Aha, but what if I open this door with magic. Observe: the door is locked. Please, give it a try." With a flourish I bowed to him.

He actually smiled and like a good sport jiggled the door knob this way and that way trying to open it; then bowed right back to invite me to continue my trick.

Gathering my magic by way of the frustration I was feeling at not knowing what the boy's home life meant, I formed my will to it and uttered a nonsensical word trying a veil on something small for the very first time. Luckily my tools when I reached for them in my pocket came out invisible. I smiled and used them like the night before, but to the naked eye it seemed like I was making some silly motions close to the door. For some reason I couldn't quite get it and in my irritation the veil fell in a spark of light at the same time the lock gave way.

I waited for the terribly ancient ward to smite me down, but I didn't sense anything coming my way. Bob is not usually wrong, so it made me nervous. What if the ward was more subtle than something straightforward that returned fire to you? A good rule to work by is that magic you can't see is a lot worse than magic you can see; hence, my wariness over not being burned to a crisp in a flashy fashion.

"What was that blue light?" he asked in an awed voice, distracting me from my thoughts. The blue light being the spark of my veil failing on something too small for my skill level – yup, I hate veils.

"Magic, like I said. Try the door." I grinned like a performer and stood back seeing him open the door with no resistance. His mouth was a little open as he opened and shut the door.

"Can you do anything else? Where did that skull come from?" he demanded with an excited smile on his swelling lip. Obviously, when the veil over my tools fell so did the one on Bob.

Usually it is a slight on my self respect as a real wizard to do a dog and pony show, but I couldn't refuse a child I had deliberately baited. Besides it was good to put a smile on someone like him. So I showed him Bob.

"Is that a real human skull?" He was completely enthralled.

"And it talks too. What's up kiddo? Nice fight there," Bob suddenly piped up, startling both me and Harry. He went very, very wide eyed.

"Hello?" he said hesitantly.

"Yes, yes, an air spirit of knowledge trapped in a skull!" Bob exclaimed. "You're right to be shocked. Hand me over to him, Harry, the kid is obviously sympathetic to my plight," Bob chattered away turning himself a little in my grasp to look up at me with his orange glowing eye-sockets.

"Bob, I think he's just surprised by a talking skull," I corrected.

I didn't notice when the Archive closed distance between us and he startled both Bob and me by petting his bleached head. Bob spun on my palm faster than I have ever seen him move and bit the child's fingers.

"Bob!" I yelled as Harry yelped.

"I am not a pet cat," Bob said angrily but I knew he was amused by the way the orange flames spun in his eyes.

"I just wanted to see if it…he was real," Harry said with his hand tucked under his arm, well away from Bob.

"Sorry, he's special." I shrugged.

The boy nodded and looked at Bob and me pensively for a long second. I waited patiently.

"Magic is real," he whispered to himself, blinking his green eyes owlishly.

I grinned, "Yeah, you bet it is."

He didn't run away from me screaming Satanist or charlatan. I thought we were going to get along just fine.

____


	3. Chapter 3

A.N. Now edited by Jeram, much thanks to him.

Hi gang, long time no see. Been busy with rl, but took out sometime to finish up a chapter for this story.

* * *

_**Chapter 3**_

"You like living with your aunt and uncle?" I asked, trying to find out if I was right about his home life. I didn't really want to find out if Bob's theory about wizards being servants in this reality was true.

He shrugged noncommittally in answer. I waited for him to volunteer information. We sat like that for a while in the humid heat, and under the bright sun that made even the grass look glossy. I waited for more, but his shrug was all he was going to say.

I tried a more aggressive approach. "Thanks for the sandwich, you have anymore? I'm starving."

"Uh, I guess. Aunt Petunia locked the door. It's all I had. Sorry. I can get you one when she gets back." He looked uncomfortable.

I felt like an ass for putting him in that position, but also felt worse for eating his breakfast. I smiled and cocked my head behind me to where the sunroom was, motioning him to follow as I got up.

"Let me guess, you gave me your breakfast?" I asked as the boy in oversized clothes followed me.

"I wasn't hungry," he said in a bored way, but I caught his slight blush. So he was embarrassed by his situation. Hmm.

In daylight the sunroom wood was bright white, almost like it had been freshly painted. Like everything else in the small neighborhood it was spotless; it gave me the creeps. I reached for my tools but thought better of it. I wanted to earn the Archive's trust. I thought showing him a bit of magic might do the trick. It was risky with the wards but who ever said Harry Dresden wasn't a risk taker?

"By the way, I'm Harry." I turned to introduce myself holding my hand out.

The boy looked taken aback but recovered soon. His posture straightened as he threw out his hand to clasp mine in a very firm handshake. I winced from the magic that flowed from him to me; he was like a naked electrical circuit.

"I'm Harry too," he said, taking his hand back and looking at it curiously. "What was that?"

"Would you believe magic?" I grinned, inwardly cataloguing the fact that he was capable of using his abilities now if he wanted to. He might just need some training.

"My Aunt and Uncle don't like that word," he shared flatly. "There's no such thing as magic."

I sensed some hostility, though I granted myself the benefit of the doubt that he was probably thinking of his relatives and not me.

"Aha, but what if I open this door with magic? Observe: the door is locked. Please, give it a try." With a flourish I bowed to him.

He actually smiled and like a good sport jiggled the door knob this way and that way trying to open it; then backed away to let me continue my trick.

I had enough frustration inside me because of not knowing what the boy's home life meant to fuel my magic. I formed my will to it and uttered a nonsensical word, trying a veil on something small for the very first time. Luckily my tools came out invisible when I took them out from my pocket. I smiled and used them like the night before, but to the naked eye it seemed like I was making some silly motions close to the door. For some reason I couldn't quite get it and in my irritation the veil fell in a spark of light at the same time the lock gave way.

I waited for the terribly ancient ward to smite me down, but I didn't sense anything coming my way. Bob is not usually wrong, so it made me nervous. What if the ward was more subtle than something straightforward that returned fire to you? A good rule to work by is that magic you can't see is a lot worse than magic you can see; hence, my wariness over not being burned to a crisp in a flashy fashion.

"What was that blue light?" he asked in an awed voice, distracting me from my thoughts. The blue light being the spark of my veil failing on something too small for my skill level – yup, I hate veils.

"Magic, like I said. Try the door." I grinned like a performer and stood back seeing him open the door with no resistance. His mouth was a little open as he opened and shut the door.

"Can you do anything else? Where did that skull come from?" he demanded with an excited smile on his swelling lip. Obviously, when the veil over my tools fell so did the one on Bob.

Usually it is a slight on my self respect as a real wizard to do a dog and pony show, but I couldn't refuse a child I had deliberately baited. Besides it was good to put a smile on someone like him. So I showed him Bob.

"Is that a real human skull?" He was completely enthralled.

"And it talks too. What's up kiddo? Nice fight there," Bob suddenly piped up, startling both me and Harry. He went very, very wide eyed.

"Hello?" he said hesitantly.

"Yes, yes, an air spirit of knowledge trapped in a skull!" Bob exclaimed. "You're right to be shocked. Hand me over to him, Harry, the kid is obviously sympathetic to my plight," Bob chattered away turning himself a little in my grasp to look up at me with his orange glowing eye-sockets.

"Bob, I think he's just surprised by a talking skull," I corrected.

I didn't notice when the Archive closed distance between us and he startled both Bob and me by petting his bleached head. Bob spun on my palm faster than I have ever seen him move and bit the child's fingers.

"Bob!" I yelled as Harry yelped.

"I am not a pet cat," Bob said angrily but I knew he was amused by the way the orange flames spun in his eyes.

"I just wanted to see if it…he was real," Harry said with his hand tucked under his arm, well away from Bob.

"Sorry, he's special." I shrugged.

The boy nodded and looked at Bob and me pensively for a long second. I waited patiently.

"Magic is real," he whispered to himself, blinking his green eyes owlishly.

I grinned, "Yeah, you bet it is."

He didn't run away from me screaming Satanist or charlatan. I thought we were going to get along just fine.

* * *

I sat next to the law mower and a canister of gas trying to ignore the temptation to put them to destructive uses. The tool shed, which had become my home in the two days since I had showed up in the new world, was cleaner than my apartment. The inside walls were painted white, all the better to reflect the one fluorescent light above the door. I knew the tools in the shed were used, because I had seen Harry take them out to work on the garden, but you wouldn't know by looking at them by how clean they were.

I caught myself glaring again when my temples started hurting. I had seen the Archive get 'scolded' and his 'ears boxed' for not washing down the mower and tools after using them. The more time I spent around him the more I was impressed. He took his treatment patiently and still had enough goodwill left over to look out for me. I felt like a stray puppy he had taken in. He'd put me in the shed, telling me no one went in there but him because the rest of his family was too lazy. He'd even given me some of his clothes, which were already hand downs from his whale of a cousin. Seeing as I had returned to my shorter and rounder days they fit me better than they fit him.

My first instinct was to get the boy out of that house right away. Luckily for me, travelling beyond the Outside had a maturing effect on me. I knew that I needed more information before making a move. There were several things that did not make sense. Firstly, in a house as powerfully warded as Bob led me to believe, there wasn't one person who knew about magic. In fact, they actively disbelieved in it, which was suspicious in of itself. Bob had already confirmed for me that none of the Archive's relatives had the gift. So it was impossible that one of them had enchanted a ward on the house.

I was tired of running through the same information again and again in my head, and quite childishly huffed. I wish I was older. It is so much more acceptable to be exasperated when you stand 6'6" and have a reputation for a temper.

Best I could figure was that the ward was there to protect the Archive. In what way? I don't know. But if that were the case, why was he neglected and mistreated in his home? I would think protecting him would also include beating down overbearing, spiteful, gluttonous, lowlifes.

I breathed, trying to let my anger go. It was not smart to lose concentration and do unplanned magic. So near the ward, anything could happen. Although, so far the ward had been kind to me.

It was getting closer to midnight, the usual time Harry snuck out to spend some time with me and bring me dinner. I grinned at our partaking in the tradition of meeting at the witching hour. More importantly it was when I expected Bob back too. I had sent him out a couple of times to gather information from the spirit world about the Archive's descendant. Each time he returned empty handed, whining that I needed to let him out for more than an hour at a time to rustle up anything useful. So I put him out of my misery for a while and sent him off for twenty-four hours. The smart thing was to gather enough intelligence before doing anything, but I am not too patient by nature. I decided on risking it and taking the Archive's descendant away soon. My newfound maturity be damned.

If I hadn't been waiting for it I wouldn't have heard him creep up to the shed. Quickly I turned off the light bulb, amazed that it hadn't died yet because of my magic. I wondered how I was going to avoid his questions that night. He was a smart kid, very curious. He'd noticed I was American and was trying to find out why I was all the way in England. Not to mention how I knew magic. The door to the shed opened and I tensed, ready to run if it was one of Harry's relatives instead of him. He darted inside and quiet as a mouse shut the door. I lit the candle he'd brought me with a small effort of magic. He smiled like he always did seeing any bit of magic I could do.

"Here's dinner," he whispered, drawing lumpy things from his large pockets covered in paper towels.

"Thank God, I'm starved." I took the usual fare of bread, some lunchmeat, and vegetables from him and dug in. He sat quietly, patiently staring off in his own world. He had an amazing ability to blend with his background. He existed completely unobtrusively. Probably had something to do with the family who raised him; it didn't seem like a home you wanted to get noticed much. Hell, if I hadn't seen him fight a gang of kids for me I'd have thought he was a half step up from a zombie, given how unexpressive he was. Ah! But there was one thing that got him going, magic. I wondered if it was the right time to tell him he could be a practitioner too.

"Can magic make glass disappear?" he asked, breaking into my thoughts as if right on cue.

"Huh?" I gave him a blank look. He shifted a little as if unsure he should continue.

"I told you it was Dudley's birthday…" he trailed off, picking at his sneakers.

"Yeah, how was the trip to the zoo with the bloated and buffonic?" I asked casually, but his nervousness made me wary.

He smiled, looking very satisfied with himself. "It was fun. I talked to a snake, and then, I think, I made the glass disappear and he scared Dudley."

"Okay, back up, start from the beginning. You talked to a snake at the zoo? You can talk to _snakes_?" I was a little surprised. Beast speaking is not a common talent by far.

He shrugged and his smile wilted just a little. "It was the first time. I didn't like it, the snake was trapped behind glass and Dudley was just knocking on it to get a rise out of him. I _hate_ bullies," he said with no little vehemence. I had noticed that there were few things that made Harry betray what he was feeling; bullies were one of those subjects.

"So you wanted the snake to be free and the glass disappeared?" I was very excited, if the Archive's descendant had discovered his magical potential by himself, I would have no trouble convincing him he was like me.

He shrugged again, too conditioned to not saying something that would potentially get him in trouble. But the satisfied smile was back. He laughed and nodded. I raised my hand for a high-five and after a second of confusion he slapped my palm. Before I could use his celebratory mood to segue into telling him about his magical heritage, he dug in his pants and brought out the glass ball LaFortier had given me to track him. The ball's pearly white light pulsed in its heart, making the candle light in the shed look cheap and fake.

"Dres?" he asked very quietly; he and I had picked 'Dres' as a nickname he could call me. "Do you think I can learn magic?" Then he hurriedly added, "I found this ball in my closet and it glows when I touch it, and the snake at the zoo…I mean it's not normal, is it? Not everyone can do that, can they?" He didn't hide his longing to be magical.

I blew a breath I didn't realize I was holding and smiled at him. "Yeah, Harry, you're different. You're like me." I watched his expression like a hawk. It was obvious he was trying to contain his happiness, keeping himself from believing what I was telling him. I knew that reaction, I'd been there. I knew what it was like to have had so much bad shit happen to you that when something good happens you're afraid to believe it. Afraid of being hurt again, but much more than that, you're afraid of being disappointed.

He shrugged nervously, not knowing how to react. "Are you sure?" he asked, not looking at me but the pulsing glass ball in his hand.

"Dead certain, kid. I sent that ball looking for you. So I know you're magical. It wouldn't have come to you if you didn't have the gift." _Oh shit!_ I wasn't planning on telling him I had actively sought him out yet. I hoped he wouldn't notice the slip, but Harry wasn't your average suburban child, he was very sensitive and aware of the people around him.

"You sent it to me? Why?" he asked curiously. I sighed inside, relieved and pissed off at the same time. Relieved that his nature was sweet enough not to doubt me, and angry because he wasn't suspicious of me, as he should be. I was here to kidnap him, damn it!

It made lying to him that much more difficult. I weighed my conscience against my duty to the White Council, and went with my heart. I told him the truth. "There's this girl back home. She's in trouble. She has magic inside her she can't control. That ball was enchanted to find the one who could help her. I didn't know who it was going to be. It just led me to you."

He blinked at me and then frowned. "Me? But I'm just…I don't know anything. I'm not like you, I'm just Harry."

I sighed, tilting my head back to rest against the plastic wall of the shed. "You're pretty kickass at just being Harry; saved me from that gang, snuck food out to me, and you're keeping me in here." I made an all encompassing gesture at the shed. "Look, kid. I know it's a shock. I'm sorry, I wish it wasn't you. I was expecting someone older. But you're the only hope she has. The magic inside you is like hers, only you will be better at working it." Silence thickened between us with my guilt and his confusion.

"Why do you keep calling me kid? I'm as old as you," he muttered, only half focused on what he was asking.

I arched a brow, realizing I was giving myself away. I didn't really know how to act like a kid his age. "Sorry, just something us Yanks say to each other."

"Whatever you say, kid," he said, making a bad attempt at my accent. I laughed and he joined me. It made me happy to see him loosen up a little. "Is the girl your family?" he asked.

"Hmm? Um, no, not family," I answered, wondering exactly what Ivy was to me. I was the one who named her. It seems like an important relationship; just don't know what to call it.

"She's your girlfriend?" he asked. He laughed at the disgusted face I made.

"She's like seven years old!" I was honest to goodness scandalized.

"Oh!" Harry said innocently. "So you're like Uncle Vernon…he likes little girls too. Petunia thinks its Dudley looking at girls on the computer, but it's actually Uncle Vernon." He nodded in a gossipy way and kept that innocent look I was beginning to become suspicious of.

"I don't like little girls. Don't make me kick your ass," I said low in my throat. He started laughing. "And I am not your uncle!" Suddenly I was having no trouble acting like a child. So much for age gap. I let him snort and laugh himself silly for a while. "Her name is Ivy, she's important to me. She's a friend, like a niece."

"You're ten, you can't have nieces," Harry corrected, and this time he did sound suspicious.

"Okay, she's like a sister. I watch out for her, alright. She's a sweet kid. Not a lot of people out there care for her. She's pretty alone." I think I forgot I was talking to another child; my mind was too focused on Ivy and her terrible fate. So I didn't notice how long Harry had been staring at me. When I looked up I missed falling in a Soul Gaze with him by a hair's breadth.

Whatever Harry saw in my face made him lose his playful mood; seeing as he wasn't prone to being too cheerful I was sorry to see the edge of loneliness in his face. What do they say? Takes one to know one, right? I suppose yanking my chain had been his way of avoiding thinking about the revelation I dropped in his lap. But he was seriously thinking now.

"She's not alone, she has you," he whispered. His eyes widened and he blushed. Looked like hadn't meant to say it out loud. The kid was mature for his age. In his circumstances it was expected.

"Yeah. Hopefully I'll do right by her," I confessed my wish.

"I'll help you," he said. Involuntarily my head snapped to him, he looked determined but was hunched over. "I don't know what's inside me." He touched his middle, maybe an attempt to feel his magic. "But if it can save her, I will do it."

There was a lot I wanted to say, including asking for forgiveness, but in the end I just had to wonder how a ten year old kid could make a decision like that so easily. Maybe he just didn't understand what it meant. Or maybe he realized he didn't but still wanted to help. Harry had surprised me before by how much he actually understood me. Maybe "takes one to know one," works both ways.

"Thanks," that was all I could say. "You know, with your Aunt and Uncle being the way they are, I'd think you'd be more like me."

He looked askance, so I elaborated, feeling just a tiny bit whorish for baring myself to a ten-year old, "Bitter, kid. I'd be bitter if I were you. Why are you so helpful?" I couldn't help the skepticism that bled through. I had had an awful adolescence. I wasn't a good willing person for a long time because of it. At least I am better adjusted now, with sarcasm as my only throw back to those times.

"I'm not like the Dursleys…I don't want to be them," he said with deep conviction.

I was glad he felt deeply about it. Even if I hadn't been morally outraged at his neglect (which I was), it represented a very practical danger. Harry was the Archive's descendant. One day that power was going to awaken in him. Unlike Ivy, who had about four hundred years of human knowledge and wisdom, Harry would inherit five _thousand_ years of human experience. If he was the type to hold grudges, or the type who needed violence to sooth the pain inside him, it would get ugly fast.

Even a moderately talented magical person with that kind of knowledge would be deadly. But I was thinking if Harry was showing signs of the gift so early he was going to be like me, and I am no lightweight by any wizard's definition. I wouldn't trust myself with the kind of knowledge the original Archive had. It was my job to make sure that Harry didn't become someone with a dark past like mine that would compromise his ability to use his power wisely.

To get him away from his relatives was now both a moral and mission imperative. I am glad when my personal inclinations match up with what the White Council wants from me. Doesn't happen often, so I like to savor the moment.

"The Dursleys won' let me go. They'll lock me in the cupboard." He bounced the glowing ball in his palm morosely.

This was the moment of truth. "Wanna runaway?" I said breezily.

"Where'd we go…I don't have any money for food," he said in the same downhearted tone as before. I did note that he wasn't immediately averse to the idea.

I reached into my pocket and drew the velvet bag of gemstones. Taking out a ruby and an emerald I handed them to him. "We have money. The question is, are you too afraid to leave your relatives? They treat you like crap; they don't really want you here. If you come with me, I can teach you magic, and you can be free. It will be tough but I think it will be better than living in a closet." Okay, I felt bad about manipulating him, but it was for his sake too.

He looked thoughtful. "We have to help Ivy…if she's real," he said it without any inflection, like it was just an observation. My stomach clenched; he hadn't bought what I was selling.

"You don't believe me," I said, thinking how I could make him trust me.

He shrugged. "You didn't tell me you sent the ball to look for me. You told me about Ivy after I showed you this." He held up LaFortier's magic ball. So that was it, he was wondering why I wasn't straight with him from the beginning.

"Look, kid, Harry. I thought magic might scare you. What was I to say? Hey I'm Harry, can you come help my friend Ivy because you're the only one who can. You'd think I was crazy," I tried to explain.

"Or I'd think you're a liar," he countered flatly. This was how Harry was mostly, closed off, betraying no emotion or thought.

I kicked my legs out. "Yeah, I guess you could think that." I put the velvet bag of gems in front of him, and Bob's skull too. "I've given you my money, and one of my most important magical artifacts. If I was trying to trick you, would I give you these things?" It was a gamble. I couldn't really afford Harry to have either of those things, especially Bob. God knows how that lecherous spirit would corrupt Harry. But I was hoping it wouldn't go that far. I was also hoping Harry wouldn't wonder if the gems were real either. I had no way of convincing him one way or another on that.

Luckily for me, he looked embarrassed. He put the emerald and ruby I had given him earlier in the bag and shoved it back to me. He didn't touch the skull. Smart kid. Last time he had tried to pet Bob, he'd gotten his fingers bitten. He got up suddenly and held out the glowing ball to me.

"It's yours, keep it," I said, shaking my head. He hid his relief. Guess he'd become attached to the thing.

"I'm going to bed. I'm supposed to be locked up right now," he said and slipped out before I could say much more. I blew out air, frustrated with how things had gone.

* * *

Orange lit up the bleached skull an it turned to face me. "Well, boss, you screwed the pooch that time."

"Thanks, Bob, how long have you been here?" I groused.

"Oh, just a little before a ten year old tricked you into showing all your cards. Just since then. Really, I didn't catch anything embarrassing," Bob said with a gleeful swirl of light in his eye sockets.

"Can it!" I snapped. "He'll come around…he doesn't want to be here anymore than I want him to be."

Bob made a humming sound. "Humans have an odd habit of being dependent on those who mean them harm. You sure you'll get your way?"

I shrugged, disturbed by Bob's observation. "It'll work out. What did you find?" I changed the subject

Bob skidded forward and did a quick spin on the floor – he was excited. "Your boy, the descendant, is the most famous wizard in this world. No one knows where he is. Oh, by the way, have you seen cats around?"

"Cats?" I asked, thrown for a loop.

"Cat lady, down the street is a spy. Her cats are some half-breed magical creature who report back to her. She's supposed to watch out for the kid without letting him know what she is, got it from the horse's mouth. Makes awful cookies too." Bob made a disgusted sound. I had a feeling Bob had possessed something to eat the cookies.

"Fine, cat lady spy, got it. Tell me more about Harry," I demanded.

"There was a very powerful warlock some years back. Scares everyone enough that they won't even say his name. This dark lord was the second most powerful wizard in the world. No one could stop him, until he went after the Archive's descendant. Kid was over a year old when the warlock attacked him and was killed. That scar on Harry's head is where the warlock hit him with an unstoppable curse called the killing curse. He's the only known survivor in history. Wizards tell their children his story like a fairy tale. He's a hero." Bob chattered his teeth in a mannerism I knew meant he was pleased with himself.

"Then what is he doing here? Shouldn't he be with other wizards living like a prince?" I thought out loud.

"No one seems to know where he is. People think he is being protected by the most powerful wizard in this world, bloke by the name o' Albus Dumbledore," Bob took on, what I assumed, was the local accent.

"Maybe he's the one who put up that ward. Still, doesn't make sense to leave him with vanillas. Especially this kind. Unless…" I quieted, trying to work through the many possibilities going through my mind.

This Dumbledore could be hiding Harry from other wizards, protecting him from competition until he grew up. I wouldn't be surprised if there were opportunistic wizards wanting a piece of the kid to prove themselves to the world. Or…Dumbledore, what an odd name, could be keeping Harry away so that he didn't grow up to challenge his place. That made sense too. Anyone with the magical strength to be acknowledged as the most powerful would get addicted to his status. Case in point: The Merlin. It was highly suspicious that Albus Dumbledore wasn't the one who vanquished the un-nameable warlock.

I didn't have the full picture, so I couldn't really know what happened then. I had to work with what was in front of me. Either way Harry was famous. Hell, sounded like he was a legend. This meant that he also had enemies. If not warlocks looking to make their mark against someone who killed a black wizard at the age of one, then others who were just hungry for fame. If Harry ever stepped into magical circles, he would need to be powerful, knowledgeable, and very wary. That is, if Dumbledore ever allowed him to take his place.

"What do you know about Albus Dumbledore?" I asked Bob.

"He's the headmaster of a magical school. Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. They say that the warlock was only afraid of Dumbledore and no one else. That's all I know, you sent me to find out about Harry, not Dumbledore. I'm tired," Bob complained.

"Fine, fine." Bob wouldn't know if Dumbledore was bad or good, he simply didn't have a reference point for evil. He was, in a way, endearingly ambivalent about those things.

Bob said something as he yawned, "They call Harry, The Boy Who Lived. Goodnight."

"'Night," I muttered, finding something ominous in that title. He wasn't meant to live and the world knew it. So why exactly _was_ he alive if he wasn't supposed to be?

I took out a tome on the history and magic of the Archive from the trunk. I really hoped that there was a magical defense mechanism in the Archive enchantments that could have protected Harry. If I didn't find anything, I would have to deal with the question of whether it was white magic or black magic which saved him as a baby. I _so_ did not want to have to worry about that.

* * *

"Harry, wake up!" I heard Bob's panicked voice and jumped up reaching for my blasting rod. I was still woozy from sleep but adrenaline has a wonderful way of kicking your ass in gear. So I was out the shed and creeping around the walls of the house as I heard Petunia, Harry's aunt, screeching inside. I heard plates breaking, the bellow of Harry's uncle, loud thumps, and another crash.

I was at the kitchen door when I saw Harry fall back against a wall holding his arm close. There are moments when you lose sense of time and space. In those moments there is only blood rushing in your mind, purpose of heart so sharp it's like the unforgiving point of a sword. I don't know when I called wind to myself, I don't know when I blasted the back door in. But suddenly I was pulling up Harry with one hand and had blasted the enraged hippo of an uncle of his into the kitchen cabinets.

I am sure his Aunt was screaming, his cousin was hiding somewhere, and his uncle was cursing me, white with fear as he was, but I heard nothing. I walked backwards, pulling Harry with me who had a split lip and a cut on his ear. Once out of the house we both ran to the shed where I picked up the unwieldy trunk, Harry grabbed Bob's skull, and we got the hell out of Dodge.

* * *

Harry led, I followed, taking short cuts only kids discover in a neighborhood. After a while he made his way through a line of bushes into the backyard of what looked like an empty house. He dropped to his knees, panting. I put the trunk down and crashed on it, trying to catch my breath. I was fat, short, and out of shape. That had to change fast – and my hair was way too long.

"What happened?" I asked when my heart stopped pounding in my brain.

"They blamed me for setting the snake on Dudley at the zoo. I said I didn't do it. I told them the snake just wanted to go back home…They said I was a freak like my mother," he added quietly.

"Bastards!" I swore with feeling. "Don't listen to them, Harry, I bet your mother was magical too, and they're just assholes."

He nodded but I could see it bothered him. I wish I had done more damage to the Dursleys. Come to think of it, I was surprised the ward hadn't stopped me. I was slinging magic right inside the house, it should have attacked me. But, then again, I didn't harm Harry; maybe it was specific to protecting him and not his relatives.

"So…" I said, wondering what he was thinking.

"They found the ball. They think I stole it. I told them it was magic. That's when Uncle Vernon…" he trailed off.

I didn't know what to say. Guys don't usually want anyone to say anything. Usually it's enough if someone listens. It's bad enough knowing you're spilling your guts to someone; it's ten times worse when they say something and throw it in your face that you're confiding in them. So I kept my mouth shut.

"I'll run away," he said.

"Yeah?" I asked, trying not to sound hopeful. When I had gone to sleep before daybreak after a night of contemplation I wasn't sure taking Harry away from his protective ward was the smart thing to do. But now I was sure it was the right choice, the only choice.

"I want to learn magic…to do things like you," he said in answer. His eyes were bright but he wasn't crying. I could read the emotion in them. It wasn't anything nice.

I nodded feeling my bubble burst a little. I did not want Harry to be motivated by revenge. It was expected after being beaten and manhandled, so I let it go. There would be other times to talk about the responsible use of magic.

"We're going to go to Chicago?" he asked, looking at me for the first time since I saved his behind.

"Uh…no. Not yet. I have to work some magic to get there. It will take me a long time. Is there anyone living in this house?" I asked. Now that we were effectively 'running off" I didn't really know where to go.

He shook his head. "Not since Mrs. Jackson died last summer."

"It will do for now. This isn't far enough from your house. If they search for us, they will find us. We'll have to move soon." I had decided the night before to send out Bob on more information gathering missions before I made a move. Looked like I had to play it by ear now. "Hey, hand my Bob's skull, kid."

Harry gave me the skull, and I knocked on its temple. "Up, Bob, have a job for you."

"Again?" Bob whined.

"Yeah. Another scouting mission. I need you to find me an unused house as far from here as possible but within a day's walk, got it?" I rattled his skull a little because the orange glow in it was dimming.

"It's daylight, Harry. Not the best time for me to be leaving," Bob reminded me. _Damn_.He was right, but I didn't have a choice.

"Best be careful then. Do this for me…and I'll let you have half an hour at a brothel of your choice." I felt a little dirty making that deal, but it was something which would give Bob extra motivation.

"A whole day at the brothel of my choice," Bob countered.

"Half an hour, Bob. Don't push me. Be back in two hours." Even half hour was enough for Bob to cause carnal havoc; a whole day would be catastrophic.

"Alright, boss, I'm gone." Bob's orange glow swirled in the eye sockets then misted out, for a second looking like a distortion in the air, before disappearing completely.

Harry was smiling when I looked at him; I grinned back and motioned toward the house. "Know how to get in?"

He nodded and led the way over the paint chipped stairs to a screen door. Almost daintily he pulled back the mesh from the corner of the screen door and snaked his hand in. I heard a bolt slide, before Harry pulled the door open. The wooden door behind it wasn't locked. The musty smell of disuse hit me as we walked in. White sheets covered the furniture in the small house. I let my eyes adjust to the dark, motioning Harry not to turn on the lights. I'd be surprised if the house still had electricity after its owner's demise something like a year ago. We didn't want to attract attention from the neighbors anyway; the house needed to look unoccupied.

"Don't turn on the lights, the neighbors might notice," I whispered to Harry.

He got the wide eyed look of realization on his face, and then asked, "Why are we whispering?"

"Um, uh, guess we don't need to," I answered awkwardly. That was silly of me. "We should check all the rooms; make sure no one else is here." I kept my blasting rod handy but no squatter turned up, and it looked like the house was ours. There was canned food still in the pantry. Harry set about to create something out of them on the luckily still operational gas stove. I took my first shower in what felt like weeks. It also gave me time to think.

Harry and I would need some place which was at least semi-permanent. I had a lot of magical studying ahead of me, and so did Harry. I had to prepare him for the awakening of the Archive. I wondered how much of that was going to be teaching him magic, and how much of it had to be giving him a happy childhood. Ivy's mother had committed suicide rather than become the next Archive. Harry _needed_ to be well adjusted, for all our sakes.

Breakfast/lunch ended up being heated up canned food with a twist of Harry's creativity. I wouldn't say I hadn't had better, but it did hit the spot. I talked to him a little about magical theory over food. Warning him that magic was difficult to learn, saying something about affinity towards elements. That was a mistake because he wanted to see me do something with fire, and I didn't think it was a good idea for me to expend magical energy.

"Look, kid, I don't do anything small scale. Maybe light candles. But when I call fire, it's big. Can't do anything that flashy. Especially because I might need to protect you later." I chewed on processed meat and pontificated with my fork.

"Protect me?" he asked with a frown.

"Yeah. After you left last night, Bob came back. I sent him out to find out more about you. See, kid, you're magical, but none of your relatives are, and there was a magical protection on the house. It didn't make a lot of sense. You'll be surprised to know that you are famous." I grinned at him, hoping that I was breaking the news to him the right way. I didn't want to hide too much from him, because like it had already happened once, it would blow up in my face later. What I needed from him was to trust me.

"Why? I'm nobody." He'd stopped eating.

"I don't know the whole story. I'm just finding out things myself. Bob said that when you were a baby, some warlock tried to kill you. Why? I don't know. But the important thing is that he couldn't. Somehow when he tried to kill you, he died instead. All you got from that is that dangerous looking scar on your head." I pointed to the lightning bolt in the middle of his head.

He reached up to trace the scar on his head. "I always liked it," he said in disappointment.

"You can still like it. I think it's pretty badass. No need to hide it," I said when I noticed him flattening his bangs over it, as if that would work with his insane hair.

"What's a warlock?" he asked. I was happy to see he wasn't hiding the scar anymore.

"It's a wizard who uses black magic. A bad guy, a very bad guy. Magic is a beautiful thing, Harry. It is nature. It is a reflection of the very powers of creation. Black magic is what takes all those pure things and twists them, perverts them, makes them ugly and evil. It is every wizard's job to use magic respectfully and for good, you understand?" I was going to wait to have this conversation, but the opportunity presented itself.

"I understand. I don't want to be a warlock. But why do you need to protect me, if the warlock is dead?" he asked. I always said the kid was smart. Very aware of what went around him.

"The warlock wasn't ordinary. Bob says he was the second most powerful wizard on Earth. If you kicked his ass as a baby, other warlocks might want to test their strength against you. Hey, it's like your school. If a new kid beats up a bully, other bullies try to fight him. Get it?" I saw the look of understanding in his eyes. I am sure he understood that kind of behavior in that context.

"So I should learn magic soon," he said to himself, dipping his spoon back into his plate.

I held myself back from warning him yet again that learning magic took time. I settled for being happy he took the news of attempted murder on him in stride.

"Aunt Petunia said I got the scar in the car accident…" he said wonderingly as he ate.

"What car accident?" I asked.

"The one my parents died in," he said without emotion, getting up to wash his plates.

_Oops,_ way to put my foot in the mouth. "I'll tell Bob to look for information on your parents. I am guessing your mom was magical. Your Aunt doesn't seem the type to like anything not chokingly ordinary. She might be lying to you."

Harry nodded with a grin, and wordlessly took my empty plates too.

"What are you smiling about?" I asked. The conversation wasn't exactly happy.

"You said 'mom.'" He chuckled.

"Oh yeah? Well, what do you Brits say?"

He shrugged, losing his good humor. "Mum, or ma, I guess."

I nodded, thinking we needed to move off that topic fast. "Let's look for bags and clothes we can use. We should take some of this food with us."

"Can we put things in your trunk?" he asked, pointing to the long and totally cumbersome piece of luggage. The Senior Council could turn me into a child, but they didn't think that carrying something like this around would be conspicuous.

"There's not much room. We should still look for things we can use. Damn trunk, if only it was smaller," I cursed. The black trunk suddenly shuddered and began rapidly shrinking. I let out a strangled scream and leapt at it. Landing on my chest, my hand slapped where the trunk had been shrinking, on top of a gleaming harmonica. I blinked at it.

"Wicked," Harry exclaimed, squatting to look at the beautifully adorned instrument. He had it in his hand before I could say anything, and just as soon it was at his lips. He blew into it and the most melodious music came from the black harmonica.

I don't know how much time went by before I realized I was staring off in space, my mind blanketed in euphoria. Fae glamour! I ripped it from Harry who gave me an angry look.

"What's your bloody problem, Dres?"

"It's magical, it took over my mind, you dolt!" I snapped back. I looked at the harmonica from all angles. "Hey, trunk, go back to your size." Nothing happened. "I, Blackstaff Dresden, command you to return to your original shape." Ah! That had the desired effect. The trunk grew in my hand, pinning me under its sudden weight. I pushed it off even as Harry laughed at my predicament. Some friend.

"Let's get to work," I said ill tempered, wondering if the damn trunk came with a manual that the Senior Council forgot to mention.

For the next two weeks we moved from one unused house to another. I began taking inventory of what the Senior Council had deemed important enough for me to bring with me. I studied the book on Archive enchantments for light reading, but concentrated on the curriculum they had given me to learn how to open Gates. The rest of the time I began to teach Harry the basics. Unfortunately Harry's quiet personality didn't mean he was very good at meditating or focusing his will. It was a long road ahead of us both, as I knew it would be. But both he and I were determined, so when he froze water in a glass and shattered it in a moment of frustration we both celebrated. We talked about how his affinity could be towards water, and the duels we could have against each other. I found I liked being a kid. It wasn't so bad watching out for the Archive's descendant.

At night I would send out Bob to collect information about things we could think of. The problem was that Bob didn't have a good filter for what was important and what was mundane. As an air spirit of knowledge he could collect unholy amounts of information. The catch always is to ask him the right questions.

We couldn't find anything more about Harry's parents, but Bob did stumble upon something called Diagon Alley. Apparently it was a meeting place and market for magical folks. Our direction had been steadily towards it. Bob told us of a bookstore and confirmed that Harry's name was in the history books. We were both very interested in finding out exactly what they said. Harry especially wanted to know about his parents.

Our moods were dampened by Bob overhearing some wizards talking about Harry Potter being missing. They were actively looking for him.

But the real trouble didn't start until the owls showed up.

* * *

_fin_


End file.
